Hate Me (Tomorrow)
by shsl-zombie
Summary: Alfred is Intrigued by Ivan Braginski, an intimidating new student shrouded in mystery. When Alfred offers his friendship to him, little goes as expected. RusAme highschool AU (Trigger warnings: suicide, alcohol)


It had been a pretty average weekend. On Friday, Alfred had stayed awake until the early hours of the morning, watching Netflix. Saturday was spent impulsively deep-cleaning his room, and finally, on Sunday, Alfred managed to cram in a whole two hours of sleep after working on his long overdue science project. Now running on those two hours, plus a few cups of coffee, Alfred was 100% done with school, with Monday, with _life, _and unfortunately, it was only third period. Alfred groaned and buried his head into his hands. It was genuinely challenging to stay awake, so paying attention in class was just not going to happen at this point. After what seemed like an eternity, the bell interrupted the teacher's lesson, and in an instant, the classroom was empty.

The hallways were a battleground with no winners. Kids screamed as if they had no sense of self-awareness, others cowered and tried their best to make it to class on time. Thankfully, Alfred's fourth period was only a few doors down, and he was settled into his desk within a few seconds. Alfred was hovering on the edge of consciousness, and was barely phased as the second bell rang. Class began, and as usual, Alfred found his line of vision drifting from the whiteboard to Ivan Braginski, a tall (and rather muscular) Russian student with silvery-blond hair. He had been to the school for about three months now, yet didn't seem to have any friends, or even anyone he talked to on a regular basis, really. Because he was so quiet, Ivan had been the punching bag of the grade level in his first few weeks of attending school. Kids poked fun at him for wearing a scarf to school every day, for being socially secluded, for mispronouncing certain English words, you name it, Ivan had probably been tormented about it. All of it had long since stopped, though. Ever since Ivan had punched a kid square in the jaw (in the middle of class) for commenting on his nose, no one dared to even talk to him. Ivan was certainly an interesting and mysterious case.

After taking attendance, Mrs. Rooney, Alfred's teacher, began to pass out graded tests from the week before. As Mrs. Rooney placed Alfred's on his desk, he noticed it was face-down, which was never a good sign. Groaning, Alfred slowly lifted the piece of paper up.

He had failed his third test in a row.

A feeling of absolute despair washed over him. At best, Alfred's highest possible grade for the class would be a D, if he was lucky. It was too early for this. Hell, it was too early for _anything._ Alfred sighed, and pressed his forehead into his arms.

Lips pressed against lips as Alfred sank into the mattress. A few frustrated groans escaped from his mouth as he fumbled with his belt buckle, but Alfred's lover calmed him by moving from his face to his chest. Alfred flinched as the figure gently nipped at the base of his collarbone, leaving a mark about the size of a marble. It moved downwards with every touch, and it had soon reached his navel.

The figure ran its tongue up and down as Alfred squirmed in excitement. His breath began to quicken, his muscles became tense, and Alfred was in ecstasy. He couldn't explain it, but it was like Alfred's vision had been clouded by lust. All that he could seem to make sense of in the tangled mess of blankets and bare skin, was his own two hands. It was surreal, and he never wanted it to end. Alfred squeezed his eyes shut as the figure gently bit down on his hipbones. Finally, after it had finished teasing him, the figure slowly began to slide Alfred's jeans off him, revealing his boxers, where a noticeable bulge had already formed.

"Alfred," the figure whispered. It was a voice he recognized, but couldn't quite pinpoint where he recognized it _from._ It was both gentle and calming.

"Alfred," it called out again, though the voice differed slightly from before, this time sounding more feminine.

"Alfred."

"ALFRED."

Alfred snapped his head up. The first thing he noticed was that he was covered in sweat, the second being that he was not lying in bed with a silhouette anymore, and lastly, that he was being stared at by an entire classroom of snickering children.

Realizing what had happened, Alfred's face turned an unnatural shade of red. He quickly tried to recompose himself as Mrs. Rooney cleared her throat and continued her lesson. Checking his watch, Alfred noticed that had slept through most of the period, and that he only had 5 minutes left before bolting out the door.

After sloppily throwing everything into his bag, the bell rang, and Alfred had exited the classroom faster than he had ever gone before. He thanked god that his locker was located somewhere else on campus as he rushed towards it, not bothering to pick up the trail of pencils behind him.


End file.
